This weekend I experienced something pretty wonderful: a broken narrative. The narrative the last few months has been one of religious conflict between Christianity and Judaism against Islam. The conflict could be seen as Glenn Beck drew thousands of Christians to action while ignoring Matthew 25 and really the rest of the Bible which call for justice for the poor. It could be seen at a time when the notion of an Islamic center in the neighborhood of the World Trade Center brings such national anger and a leader of a church could actually call for burning the Muslim holy book. It could be seen as relationships between Israel and Palestine as projected by the media seem to harden.
Similarly, those of us who believe in religious pluralism and loving our neighbor as ourselves face tests to our faith. Uncertainty has been frowned upon. We can’t express doubt that we may not have the exact answer in our faiths and that maybe each faith is expressing part of the truth. Too often it seems like our authentic religions are being hijacked. It is projected as unnatural to walk together with fellow brothers and sisters of other faiths to fulfill the promise all our holy prophets call us to: bringing justice, love, and peace to a broken world.
So, as you can imagine events like this Sunday’s Unity Walk take an added significance. In this time of conflict, this year’s theme, Building Peace By Serving Each Other, seemed all the more appropriate. The event began at the Sikh Temple where speakers across religions took the stage to affirm that walking together did not contradict their faith—it manifested it. We ate delicious Indian food prepared by the organizers and after getting our fill, we set off for an hour of open houses in places of worship across the city. Different houses of worship opened their doors in a spirit of inclusion and unity. People were not turned away, they were not judged, and their relatively small differences were not magnified to eclipse all they had in common. When we reached the end location at the DC Islamic Center, Christians took their shoes off and women borrowed hijabs to see what it was like to go into a mosque. It was really beautiful. What made the event more special was the presence of youth. Youth organized interfaith service activities all day and expressed their commitment to acting out their faiths together.
As I expressed at the beginning of this post, there’s so much out there today to convey that our hope is being held hostage. Amidst all we see on TV and read in the newspapers, it’s hard to not think that events like this seem like drops in an otherwise intolerant and broken down pour. But as cheesey as it might seem, the event this weekend gave me so much hope. It may not reclaim a national narrative, but it highlighted the truth of unity can still rise in this environment. As William Cullen Bryant famously wrote,
Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again; The eternal years of God are hers; But Error, wounded, writhes in pain, And dies among his worshipers.
I am hopeful that continued small actions like this can continue to build on each other, bring us together, and help us each achieve what we could not do alone: do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God.
Ace Parsi is a progressive Christian and education advocate in Washington DC.
I began to understand the importance of comprehensive immigration reform not in interactions with immigrant communities in the USA, with whom I had little contact despite living in a farming community, but in studying abroad in France and traveling across Europe. In France, I took sociology and history classes that touched on the social impact of migration of maghrébins (North Africans primarily from Algeria but also Morocco and Tunisia)--- a particularly salient issue as there have been riots in these ethnic communities that have received national attention (in 2005 mostly, but this is not new or over--- watch the film La Haine [Hate] for an artistic exploration of this social dynamic). I spoke with my host family and other French people about Islam and immigration. And I began to see how across Western Europe, immigration is a hot button issue--- from the insanity of the border security in the UK (I stood in line once as the only white person in a long line of brown men in Heathrow for "random" security checks--- I was the evidence that they were supposedly not racially profiling), to the debates over whether or not Turkey should be admitted into the European Union, to learning about Turkish immigration to Germany and initial attempts to prevent Muslims from becoming citizens. In October 2008, one of my best friends, a Bosnian woman (so a woman from the "other" Europe and a Muslim---read: not white enough), was supposed to come visit me but her ticket was revoked when it turned out she needed a visa in order to land in Germany twice (she had two layovers in Germany and would have spent a grand total of two hours in the country). So I began to study the insanity of xenophobia (fear of the foreign) in my own country (you can check out some of my reflections here).
The news today turned me back to the mess that is xenophobia in Europe. Last month, French president Nicholas Sarkozy announced mass deportations of Roma immigrants (more commonly, though derogatorily, known as gypsies--- for more of an explanation check out the Slate article called "Why do the Roma wander?").
"Hey, hey Sarkozy why don't you like the gypsies?" (VAMA feat. Ralflo's "Sarkozy versus Gypsy")
This is nothing new, of course: Italy, for example, declared a state of emergency in 2008 "due to the presence of Roma" and, let's not forget, during the Holocaust, the Nazis exterminated 220,000 Roma in its attempt to "purify the race."
And, for the French government, such despicably racist and xenophobic policies are nothing new. They are forever trying to ban the veil and blaming young men of color for everything wrong in the world. Last September, police invaded and dismantled a migrant camp in Calais. This event has stuck with me these past months because I have often wondered where those families went and what it was like to live through such a traumatic experience of loss.
Thursday and Friday, French police began the ethnic cleansing* program, resulting in the removal of some 700 people and a dismantling of 40 Roma camps, according to the BBC. Robert A. Kushen, executive director of the Budapest-based European Roma Rights Centre, pointed out in an interview for the New York Times that "Mass expulsions based on ethnicity violate European Union law...and the failure of France to do individual assessments of each case--- as opposed to cursory examinations of papers by the police--- also violates European Union rules." Sound familiar?
If that does not sound familiar what about this story from the UK's The Guardian:
Although [an unnamed 27-year-old Romaian man] has lived in Marseille since he was child, he still has no papers, and cannot get a job. "This discrimination will not go away. France has become the opposite of liberty, equality and fraternity," he said. Asked about any friends and acquaintances among the 1040 people to have gone home "voluntarily" from Marseille to their native countries since January last year, he said he doubted they would have gone happily. "Even in Romania you had discrimination," he remembered. "No one wants us. There is no place for us. Not in Romania, and not in France."
I read these articles and am constantly reminded of the stories of refugees denied asylum in the USA, of immigrants who arrive in the USA as children and know nothing of their "home countries" and yet are deported, of USAmerican politicians who are attempting to overturn the fourteenth amendment to deny citizenship to USAmerican-born children of immigrants. Xenophobia is not exclusive to the USA, which is something we must remember as we are fighting for comprehensive immigration reform in our own country. The reason for the French government's stance on immigration is an appeal to the populist vote--- much like the increase secure-the-border furor in the USA. This is a problem across the world--- and not just in the global North: in South Africa, for example, there have been violent attacks against immigrant communities. While we do need to focus on policy and reforming immigration law step by step in the USA, we need to be thinking globally of how we can create a world in which we welcome strangers rather than demonizing them.
"Come, you blessed of my Abba God! Inherit the kindom prepared for you from the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you fed me; I was thirsty and you gave me drink. I was a stranger and you welcomed me; naked and you clothed me. I was ill and you comforted me; in prison and you came to visit me...The truth is, every time you did this for the least of my sisters and brothers, you did it for me."**
***
The title of this blog, comes from a quote in a New York Times piece from Ioan Lingurar.
* I know a lot of activists reject using the term ethnic cleansing when talking about Arizona's SB1070 and other anti-immigrant policies because its connection to the Bosnian genocide such a term brings with it. I am not suggesting that we forget that the term ethnic cleansing served as a euphemism for genocide. However, I am asking that we look at the definition of ethnic cleansing--- the forced removal of an ethnic group from a geographical area--- and use the weight of the term to name the reality of anti-immigration policies like France's.
**Matthew 25: 34-36,40, The Inclusive Bible: The First Egalitarian Translation, Priests for Equality (Sheed and Ward 2007).
I’ve been trying to write this piece for some time now. I’ve blamed work and travel and a lack of creative energy for my tardiness but the truth of the matter is I don’t have anything nice to say. Just for the record I find the adage - if you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say anything at all – to be very compelling. In fact I tried my best to channel my inner Obama and write a hopeful and persuasive article about being an ally. Perhaps it’s the hour of the evening or the fact that I am way past the original deadline but I’m disregarding that good advice and going with – sometimes the truth hurts. Consider yourself forewarned.
So why don’t I have anything nice to say? Well for starters I’m over the whole queer thing. I know that sounds callous so let me clarify. I’m not over queer folk or queer issues. To the contrary I love them like I love ice cream, the more scoops the merrier. What I am over is the debate about whether or not homosexuality is a sin, the debate over whether or not to legalize gay marriage, the debate over whether or not it’s okay for Spongebob to be more than just friends with Patrick. I’m over it. In fact, the majority of my generation is over it too. We felt the same way about the “debate” over global warming. We didn’t wait for President Bush or Fox news or the guy from the 700 Club to utter the words global warming for it to become a reality. We didn’t wait for that and we aren’t going to wait for this. Case closed, it’s okay to be gay.
I’m so over it that I couldn’t even bring myself to write a nice story about being an ally because it felt a little too much like justifying once again why I am. Why do I need to justify being an ally? Shouldn’t they have to justify why they are homophobic? Shouldn’t they have to justify why they choose to translate some parts of the Bible literally but they still eat shellfish and wear polyester-cotton blends? Shouldn’t they have to justify their slurs or hushed whispers or disapproving glances or beatings? Shouldn’t they have to justify why it’s okay to support a gay bashing culture that terrifies the parents of gay children, that shames the little boy who loves to dance, that pushes the gay teen to suicide and that impedes the transgender woman from fulfilling her call to ministry? Why do I have to convince them, isn’t more love always better than less? In fact when Christ came I’m pretty sure his central message wasn’t to love less and identify people to ostracize.
So, I’m done and many in my generation are done too. We’re done with the gay debate because it’s not our debate. We’re done with the debate because engaging it gives credence to the debate itself. We may talk about the problems of racism today but we certainly don’t debate if it’s okay to be racist. Why then should we debate if it’s okay to be homophobic? The Bible argument doesn’t fly with us so don’t waste your time on it…especially if you’re a shrimp eater. Sinner! And the argument that it’s unnatural also doesn’t work for us because we know that it happens all the time in other animals. At this point I think the remaining argument is that it makes some people feel icky. Well, mullets make me feel icky but I still support the rights of people with mullets to get married.
I’m sure at some point throughout this rant you thought to yourself that in all my angry youth I have missed the value of those gentle conversations and nudging that has brought many people to the ally side. I have not. I believe there is great value in this but I do not think that it is my particular calling. In any social movement you have those great saints who work on the movable middle, the people that may be influenced by reason or compassion to shed their prejudices and join the struggle. To these people I pay my deep respects, but there is another group of people to which I belong. They are the ones who demand a new social climate simply by refusing to tolerate the current one, refusing to accept that this is the way it should be.
I can’t tell you when the tide will turn on queer issues in the U.S. or the world but I know I have history on my side when I say it is coming. And between now and then I don’t plan to spend much time in debate. My energy will be spent strengthening our queer/ally base, supporting those coming out and working with young people as they envision a new world. And I’m going to do this with the confidence that this too shall pass. Because just as a storm always passes so too will those currently in power in the government and in the church, and when they do, we’ll be ready.
So, in the meantime, in the space between today and tomorrow, I want to leave you with these words from Henri Nouwen, may they help to carry you as many of you have carried me. All I want to say to you is “You are the Beloved,” and all I hope is that you can hear these words as spoken to you with all the tenderness and force that love can hold. My only desire is to make these words reverberate in every corner of your being—“You are the Beloved."
